Of course I didn’t tell him the whole truth. Does anyone ever? Don’t we reveal it by stages, even to ourselves? Haltingly, the way I described it was that I had been ‘seeing someone’. ‘Like a friend!’ I stressed, as his face changed. ‘Nothing happened. I was just very lonely. The move down here, it was so hard for me. I was used to seeing people every day, at work or at the gym or for coffee.’ Nick said nothing. He was sitting opposite me on an armchair, the coffee table between us, the books on it arranged at mathematical angles. ‘The thing is, I learned recently that this friend, he died in an accident. Car crash. And his wife – well, she seems to think maybe I was with him when it happened, I don’t know, she must be crazy, poor woman – and she’s kind of . . . after me.’

It was so cold in the living room. I didn’t know why the heating hadn’t kicked in. ‘After you?’ he repeated, finally, his voice as cold as the air.

‘Yes. Nick, it’s Nora. It’s a long story but – basically, Nora is my friend’s wife. She followed me here. I’m scared. That dead thing, and losing Poppet . . . I think she might be planning to . . . do something.’

What, I didn’t know. The only thing I could think of was that she was waiting for me to have the baby. To be at my most vulnerable, and then to strike.

Nick said nothing for a long time. He was staring at the expensive hardwood floor with its underfloor heating. So much he had laid under my feet, and this was what I’d done. ‘I gave you another chance.’ His voice sounded strangled. ‘After that fucking twat – Damian.’

My heart lurched. So as I suspected, he knew.

‘I know what you did,’ he confirmed. ‘You came home reeking of him. Fucking slut.’ The word made me jump. Had he seen it, written in the snow? ‘Bastard got what was coming to him, anyway.’

I didn’t know what he meant. But then I did. ‘His car,’ I said dully. ‘You smashed it up.’ Of course it hadn’t been you. Another lie. You wouldn’t have cared enough to do something so risky, go out of your way to avenge me.

Nick made an impatient gesture. ‘He deserved it, and worse. But I gave you a chance. We’d move away from the city, from all those temptations, and maybe you’d behave. And now you’ve done it again! Jesus, Suzi, what could you even do out here? You don’t have a car, and we’re in the middle of nowhere! But still you managed it. You dirty little bitch.’